


Pas de Deux

by YaYaSestrahood



Category: Killing Eve (TV 2018), Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-29
Updated: 2019-01-29
Packaged: 2019-10-19 02:47:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17593166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YaYaSestrahood/pseuds/YaYaSestrahood
Summary: Rachel comes home to find a stranger in her apartment.





	Pas de Deux

**Author's Note:**

  * For [psychedelikats](https://archiveofourown.org/users/psychedelikats/gifts).



> Happy birthday, Kat!! It's not much, but I hope you like it.

Rachel pushed open the front door to her apartment. Cold air spilled out into the hallway. She stepped inside and locked the door behind her, sighing to herself. She wasn’t in the mood tonight to deal with a cold apartment. Either Jeffrey was unreasonably late or he’d neglected to turn the heat on. Either way, he’d be receiving a dressing-down soon enough.

She rounded the corner and froze. A strange woman was sat on her couch, swigging Bordeaux straight from the bottle. ‘89 Lafleur.

“You’re late,” the woman said in a thick accent.

Rachel felt a chill run down her spine, but stood her ground.

“Who are you?”

“DYAD sent me,” she said with a smirk. “I’m your new bodyguard.”

Unlikely. Rachel didn’t have ‘bodyguards’, she had monitors. DYAD would never for one second let her forget what she was. And besides…

“I’m not looking for a new bodyguard.”

“Well, you should be,” the woman laughed. “Your old one was not so good.”

She drew a finger across her throat, making an exaggerated slicing noise with her mouth.

“I hope you don’t need the bathroom, by the way. Things got messy in there.”

Rachel turned and sprang to the front door, throwing open the lock. Her hand found the knob.

Something sharp pressed against her throat. The woman slid up tight against her back, breathing hot against her ear.

“Whoops,” she whispered. “You just got here. Come on, have a drink with me.”

The woman released her, shoving her in the direction of the kitchen. Rachel drew a breath to steady herself as she walked to the counter.

“I don’t normally drink with strangers,” she said.

“Okay,” the woman said. “Hi, I’m Villanelle. And you’re Rachel Duncan. Now we’ve met.”

“And what exactly is it you want from me, Villanelle?”

Rachel slipped around the counter, then turned to face the intruder.

“I thought maybe we could have sex?” Villanelle offered.

Rachel blinked back at her, stunned into silence. Villanelle burst into laughter.

“Oh my god, your face,” she said. “I’m kidding. You’re not my type. I’m just going to kill you.”

Rachel reached underneath the counter, feeling for the switch.

“I cut the alarm under there,” Villanelle said, stone-faced. Rachel froze. “Sneaky, sneaky. What are you so afraid of?”

Rachel swallowed, forcing calm into her voice.

“You aren’t the first to try,” she said. “To kill me.”

“Oh?” Villanelle chuckled. “So tell me, why are you not dead? Was your guard not always so useless?”

“I suppose you could call it a change of heart.”

“Ah yes,” Villanelle said with a click of her tongue. “Money. It’s always money, isn’t it? You people are so boring.”

“People with money, you mean.”

“Just look at your apartment,” Villanelle droned. “One hour in here and I wanted to throw myself out the window. Why do you have so many limes anyway?”

“I’m starting to feel the same,” Rachel snapped. “If you’re going to kill me, would you hurry and get it over with?”

“Aw,” Villanelle pouted, sauntering to the counter. “You’re no fun.”

“I don’t like being toyed with,” Rachel replied. She swallowed back her fear and pulled a fresh bottle from under the counter. “So, are you going to kill me, or shall we talk business?”

Villanelle froze in place, cocking her head.

“Business? I don’t want your money.”

“As you’ve made clear.” Rachel pulled the cork loose from the bottle and poured herself a glass.  “But I do believe I’ve had dealings with your employers in the past.”

DYAD had always made a big show of admonishing Rachel after she’d begun hiring assassins to do their dirty work, though they’d since given her several promotions all the same.

Villanelle’s face twitched, almost imperceptibly.

“And?”

Rachel brought the glass to her lips, let the wine slide down her throat.

“Tell me, are you satisfied with your current position?”

Villanelle shrugged.

“I kill people. I get paid. What’s not to like?”

“I’m sure I don’t have to tell you this, but you’re disposable to them,” Rachel said. Villanelle frowned. “There are thousands who could step in and do your job at a moment’s notice.”

“Not like me. I’m very good.”

“Are you?” Rachel set her glass on the counter and stepped out, approaching Villanelle.    
“Do you make it a habit of drinking on the job? Conversing with your targets before you kill them?”

Villanelle laughed.

“And are you always this much of an arsehole?”

Villanelle held her knife out as Rachel approached. She stepped forward until she could feel the tip pressing at her abdomen.

“Or is it that you were never sent to kill me in the first place?”

The two stood silent, scanning each other’s eyes. Finally, Villanelle withdrew the knife with a smirk, slipping it into her pocket.

“Okay, you got me,” she said, throwing her hands up. “I heard maybe you could use me. Professionally, I mean.”

Rachel narrowed her eyes.

“I just want to do my job,” Villanelle continued. “And I want payback. You have connections, don’t you? I think you can help me find the people I’m looking for.”

“You expect me to help you after you broke into my apartment and threatened to kill me.”

“Oh, don’t be dramatic,” Villanelle groaned. “I barely even touched you.”

“You certainly know how to make a first impression,” Rachel admitted. “And Jeffrey?”

Villanelle raised her eyebrows, thinking.

“Oh, your guard. He’s alive,” she sighed. “Unconscious but alive.”

“Pity,” Rachel said. “I don’t much care for him.”

Villanelle laughed, raising the bottle in her hand.

“You know, maybe you are my type after all.” 


End file.
